Awake and Unafraid, Asleep or Dead
by Avid Reider
Summary: Eliot's been missing for a month. When the team finds him, they realize it'll take more than a few playful pokes and light-hearted jokes to get him through his ordeal. They finally learn what he's willing to do for them. - Intense Eliot whump, very angsty.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The title of this fic is inspired by a My Chemical Romance song. I've had this saved on my computer for a while, but wasn't sure whether I should post it or not. I've cleaned it up a bit, and I didn't want to leave y'all without an update of some sort. Sorry if I slipped a few obscure puns in here, it's just my style. This is pretty angsty and there is some intense Eliot whumpage from the start, but it is pretty interesting, if I do say so myself.**

**I was prompted to post this due to the feedback I've gotten on my short Leverage stories on here, so here you go, my wonderful fellow fandomers! (Here I recognize that not every fan is a fangirl, trying to avoid labels =^.^=)**

**Warnings: Whump, cursing, angst, medical BS, potential OOC-ness**

Eliot had been missing for a month. The team went to his apartment but found no trace; he'd packed nothing and left his truck and motorcycle. Sophie reached out to all of her contacts as Parker helped Hardison search the Internet for clues, as well as running a few side cons to have eyes and ears in every major police force in the country for intel. Nate even limited his drinking to keep his head clear. They didn't give up because they knew he'd never abandon them by choice. Eliot said it on the first job: he leaves when he wants to leave. Nobody can take him away. So they searched and they waited. One day their efforts were as fruitless as ever and the mastermind descended to the bar for a drink. As he poured the glass of scotch he heard a thump outside and tires squeal away. Setting down the glass and walking to the glass door of McRory's, he froze.

A limp form lay dumped down the entrance steps, crumpled in a bloody heap.

Eliot.

Nate yelled for the team before he swallowed his horror and forced his legs to move. He propped the door open and kneeled beside the head matted with that tell-tale long chestnut hair. With a slightly shaking hand he felt the neck and found a faint and thready pulse. After their gasps and initial shock, Nate got through to Hardison and Parker to gingerly lift their friend. They slowly carried him upstairs, too focussed on the task to worry about any injuries they may cause from jolting him. They brought him up to the guest bedroom's bathroom, the closest, to clean off the blood. It wasn't until they set him in the tub that they realized he wore only boxers.

"Sophie, I need you to set up this guest room for him. On your way grab us the big first-aid kit. Parker, go to Eliot's apartment and retrieve some loose clothes for him. We need to make him as comfortable as possible." The women nodded and rushed off to their jobs.

Hardison saw his friend pause holding the sponge to wash the hitter's blood away and turned to see why. There was too much. It was all over, thick and wet and crusty and dry and messy. Now that they had a moment to look, though, they saw why. His body was mauled. The hacker was no expert on injuries but this man was obviously beaten badly, slashed, stabbed, whipped, burned, electrified... worst of all, perhaps, were his mangled wrists. He'd been restrained cruelly, and he tried his very hardest to escape. At any cost.

"Let me, Nate." He took the sponge and slowly ran lukewarm water over it. With extreme caution he washed Eliot, letting the unconscious man keep his decency. When he was finished and had dried him, they lifted him out onto a towel. With the fetched first-aid kit they patched him up. Lack of medical experience hindered their abilities but at least they could stop the bleeding. Parker delivered the clothes and the three of them changed him to be warm. Sophie finished with the accomodations, so Parker and Hardison carried and set him on the bed. Sophie pulled a thin sheet over him (she didn't want him to be too cold or too warm). They all sat around him for a long while in silence. With their critical jobs to make sure he made it this far, they'd barely had time to process the return of their comrade.

Suddenly Nate stood and left, only to return with two pairs of police-issue handcuffs. At their questioning glances he went to stand at the headboard.

"We all know that Eliot's trained to survive. He's been held captive and he's been through torture before. From the state of him, he'd been taken by professionals and tortured for as long as he's been gone. When he wakes up he'll be in pain, disoriented and acting purely on instinct. He'll think we're threats and wake up swinging, harming us and himself. If Eliot hurt one of us he'd never forgive himself. We need to take precautions." They all hated it but didn't object when the links locked his bandaged wrists to the frame.

Nathan stared at his hitter, wondering how he could help a man so badly injured when it hurt to just think of what monster could leave those God-awful marks on that body. Sophie sat on the edge of the bed stroking Eliot's hair lovingly, worriedly. Hardison sat typing up a storm on his laptop attempting to I.D. the drivers that dumped his body. Parker sat folded up on the floor talking to a plant, describing how they were going to steal Eliot something special to make him feel better.

An hour later they heard a low groan. The girls had fallen asleep on the floor but everyone jolted and stood around the hitter immediately, as if connected. He shifted and grimaced deeply, stilling. His body tensed quickly as his memory flooded back. Shaking his head only confused him further and when he opened his eyes and saw people, he panicked. Eliot pulled his arms to shield himself but they wouldn't move. His head turned and he saw them... those God forsaken cuffs. Danger, not safe, gottagetoutgetoutnow- his mind raced. He tugged harder and struggled, completely losing it when someone tried to hold him down. He fought and twisted, inflaming his injuries, and the pain magnified his fear. Eliot was going to kill them all.

At first stunned by the terrified grunts and cries, Nathan sprung into action. He leapt forward and forced him down, pressing his palms firmly on the hitter's shoulders. This elicited a choked yell and the thrashing intensified. He moved one hand from a shoulder to cover Eliot's mouth. His cries were stifled and his eyes bulged as he stared at the man holding him. Eliot calmed after a minute, brows furrowed, and Nate released him.

"It's all right Eliot, you're safe now." Sophie tried to comfort him.

His eyes shot around as he tried to gather his bearings then tried to recognize the people.

"Eliot?" Nate asked, unsure of the damage done to him.

"N-... Nate?" His voice was weaker than they'd ever heard, by far. He didn't seem to believe they were real. "How... are, will you..." Eliot seemed perplexed, as if he hadn't spoken for ages. Sophie poured water into a glass she'd provided. He was allowed a few small sips of the cool liquid before she pulled it away. He frowned but stayed silent.

"Your captors dumped you outside, at the entrance to the bar. We brought you in." Nathan explained simply.

Eliot just examined each of their expressions. His team was worried, hopeful, and... what? There was something in their eyes he couldn't quite identify.

Parker stepped forward, movements followed by his gaze. She reached out to touch him and he flinched. Usually her touches were to annoy him but this hand only slightly lighted his face. He winced at the touch but she only smoothed back a loose strand of hair. Eliot's eyes opened and she ever so gently held his face with her fingertips. She hardly met his bruised skin. "You're real. You're alive. I knew it, Sparky." She saw the doubt in his now dimmer blue eyes. "You know, I'm real too. You're not imagining this. We saved you for real." She stood back and he glanced at Nate who only nodded.

"You... it's real?" He hardly wanted to hope. Their faces, they told him the truth.

Now that he knew this was real, his pain became real too. His back arched slightly as the sharp, throbbing agony everywhere came to the fore of his mind. His body positively throbbed and it was all he could do not to pass out. He knew, though, that he couldn't let that happen.

"Eliot are you okay?" He shook his head slightly.

"Just... gotta r-ride it out..." His fingers twitched as he tried to stay still. After an eternity his features relaxed a bit and he could focus on his team. They looked concerned but he ignored that. "Hardison... what's that beeping?" He was able to ask though his breathing was sporadic. They all heard the beeping coming from the hacker's laptop.

"Hold up." He sat typing for a moment. "It's an e-mail with a video link. The sender said to watch it with the whole team, or else... then like, in Italian maybe? It's like, 'Io prenderò lui di nuovo e tu guarda come mi sbucci fuori la sua striscia di pelle sanguinosa striscia'?" He shrugged. "I'll open a translator-"

"No, Hardison. I know who sent it." Nate said as he turned to the trembling hitter. "It was Moreau, wasn't it?" Eliot nodded slowly. "Do you want to tell them what he said?"

"I will take him again and you will watch as I peel off his skin strip by bloody strip." Their blood chilled at the harsh words.

"Can you do this?"

Eliot nodded again. "Have to."

Nate gestured to Alec. "Play the video."

The view was from a high corner in a dimly lit room. They could clearly make out a form hanging from the middle of the ceiling... an awfully familiar form...

Sophie gasped. "Oh, Eliot..."

His heart raced at the memory of that night. It was a ways into his captivity and he was deprived of food, water and rest. The screen showed the fresh bruises and cuts on his skin. The team saw that he was hanging from handcuffs on a hook, his wrists bloody and burnt. His toes just reached the floor so that he dangled tantalizingly close to setting the strain off his shoulders.

On the video the door to the room slammed open and their greatest foe strode onscreen. In both the video and the present he flinched.

"Good morning, Spencer. Although you wouldn't really know, would you?" He walked up to Eliot and grabbed his chin. "I trust you had a good night's sleep? I hope that my little device didn't keep you up." Eliot's slightly bloodshot eyes glared sharply. "It did. Ah well, better luck next time. Say, I have a surprise for you today." He whistled and a large, burly man entered with a whip. Hardison shook his head in anger.

"Not only have you failed to answer my questions but you remain adamantly silent, excluding a few well-placed grunts. Today I will remedy this. You will scream for me, Eliot." The burly man moved to stand behind the hanging man. Eliot wore only his jeans. The man raised the whip and, at Damien's nod, let it fall.

It cracked loudly against his back and the hitter tensed but held his tongue. It hit again. Crack. Crack. Crack. By around the tenth time his back was bleeding more and he couldn't withhold a groan. Moreau grew bored.

"Come now, I want progress." Burly smiled morbidly and obeyed. With just two more the leather was cutting deep and a brutal lash made him cry out. Burly was putting his whole strength behind the blows and every lash made Eliot yell. Around the fifteenth hit, the hitter was fading. Moreau allowed a few more before he held up a hand. His captor approached and forced his head up by a handful of hair. "I told you that you would scream, Spencer. I know everything about you. I know what makes you tick and which tortures you are most prone to. Let me guess, I just made you break a little promise? Probably some proud sentiment you've built up over the years that you'd never scream for me again, hmm?" His expression held a warning. "Answer me."

Eliot conceded, gasping. "Y-yes."

"There is nothing you can hide from me, Eliot. This little trick you're pulling, playing the tough guy? It won't last. You'll tell me what I wish to know because you always come around. I will break you again, schiavo, and it does not matter what side you were on, good or bad, because you will be on MY side." He let Eliot's head fall and left, locking the door. The hitter exhaled shakily, trembling. The video was cut off and the screen went black; white print was typed slowly: "See you soon."

The team sat still and silent in shock. Eliot lay still staring at the ceiling.

Nate recovered first. "What did he want to know?"

The hitter paused. "Everything about the team. Your weaknesses, contacts, safehouses, stashes. He wanted me to betray you so that I knew it was my fault when he murdered my family."

The intensity of the silence was nearly tangible.

"Did you-"

"No."

The mastermind nodded. "Thank you."

Eliot didn't respond.

Hardison went back to typing furiously. "This video is burned onto my drive, I can analyze it with some info." He glanced up. "Can you tell me when this was?"

Eliot shook his head slightly as if to remember, trying to ignore a tight muscle spasm this caused. "It was... I'm not sure. For the first... while... they had me trussed up with sensory deprivation. I didn't know anything."

"I'm sorry man."

"What else?"

"Can you tell me where they took you?"

As Hardison questioned Eliot, Sophie pulled the other two out of the room to give them privacy. When she closed the door she turned to face them.

"Parker, honey, come sit down." She led the thief to the couch as Nate went to pour a scotch.

Parker crossed her legs and waited as the grifter sat next to her.

"Do you understand what's going on?"

The blonde thought a moment. "Moreau took Eliot and hurt him so he'd give us up, but he didn't."

"That's right. And you understand that Eliot's in a lot of pain?"

Parker just looked at her.

"How does that make you feel?"

"I don't know. But he's Eliot, he'll get better soon. He'll be bashing heads again soon."

Sophie held her hand. "Parker, sweetie, I don't think he'll be better for a while. What Moreau did to him was... he's a very brave man but you can't rush the healing process. He needs time."

The thief thought on that for a while. "I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?"

"How he got hurt. I mean, I thought he was invincible. Whenever he got hurt on a job he didn't really care, he just kept going. Why does he hurt?"

Sophie's heart crumbled at the innocent question. "He always hurts. When he gets hit on a job it gives him pain but if it's small enough he ignores it. When he gets beat up, he puts on a brave face. He hides it so that we can do our jobs. If he can't fight then he can't protect us, and that is his only purpose, in his mind."

"But he always says he's fine, and he never needs time off or anything."

Sophie tilted her head, smiling slightly. "We both know that we don't always mean what we say. He protects us physically by taking the hits, and then he protects us emotionally by acting unphased. And he never asks for time off but I think sometimes he needs it."

"So... he really does hurt?"

"Yes."

"When he gets a big bruise or shot or something I always poke it to see if it does. I thought he just didn't want me to annoy him, but..."

"It hurts him."

Parker sat, processing this. "Moreau said he would break Eliot. Is he broken?"

The grifter looked toward his door. "I don't know."

"Can we fix him?"

"We'll sure as hell try."

She hugged the girl then left her to think about how to help Eliot.

Sophie walked to the drinking mastermind, snatching the bottle and dumping it in the sink. "He doesn't need you drunk, Nate."

He leaned back on the countertop, crossing his arms. "I need me drunk."

"Why? So you can disappoint him again?"

"Because I can't do this!" Despite being upset he minded his voice level. "The most dangerous criminal we've faced, who we barely even caught, escaped and this time he's after us! I could do this if we were at full strength, maybe, with a lot of planning, but with our hitter broken? Did you see him? We can't beat the bastard again."

Sophie slapped him. "I cannot believe that you're doing this. You're smarter than that. Right now you're abandoning Eliot, you're abandoning this team. How could you be so cold-hearted? He's not broken and he's not lost. If you drink this away, if you leave us, then you're out. You can hold your miserable self responsible for letting us die." She watched as her words registered. "Now, although I'm pissed at you right now, I know it's not your fault. You didn't even mention his name, Nate."

Nate slowly dragged a shaking hand down his face then recrossed his arms.

"I know you're scared. I see it too, the parallels with Sam." Nate's gaze hardened. "But you're not going to lose him as long as you hold on. You won't lose him if we can protect him like he protects us every day. We can help him. He's not dead."

She hugged him and he hugged he back. He held her close as a single tear fell from his closed eyes. "Thanks, Sophie." She held him tighter.

When the rest of the team left, Hardison looked up from the screen. Eliot, still staring at the ceiling, unclenched his fists. The hacker set his laptop on the floor.

"Thought you might want a minute to think. This is all... screwed up." Hardison admitted. "I can try to look at the clip later but I don't know if I'll be able to pull anything from the-"

"Thanks, Hardison." Eliot turned to him. The younger man nodded, shutting up. "For now, and for lookin' for me."

Alec started. "Sure man. An' like, not that I wouldn't, but how'd you know I did?"

Eliot almost smiled. "Because you're a good man." Hardison would've blushed if those words didn't make him so sad, coming from the best man he'd ever met.

"You didn't have to protect us, Eliot. We woulda understood if you talked."

The hitter shook his head. "Never."

Hardison frowned. "I'm sorry I couldn't find you before they hurt you. I mean, not that you couldn't handle it or nothin', but I just hate that you had to."

A comfortable silence passed until he grew troubled.

"What did he mean by 'See you soon'?" Hardison asked worriedly.

Eliot sighed, facing him again. "I didn't give him what he wanted. I paid for that, but he wouldn't just let me go, Hardison. I can't be that naive. He's... not finished."

Alec's jaw dropped. "You mean he's..."

"Yeah."

"What are we gonna do?"

"Hope that Nate comes up with a plan."

Hardison decided he had to accept that as the only option. "Yeah, hope. By the way, how come you're so... accepting? Dontcha wanna punch a wall or somethin'?"

"I've considered every possible outcome."

"Man, you're a robot." Hardison said jokingly but hated himself for it when the hitter glared at him.

"I'm not the man that cries and hugs it out after something like this, Alec." The hacker flinched. That's the first time he'd used his first name. Eliot must be upset. "I can handle pain, always have, always will. This is nothing new for me, except for having someone other than myself to protect."

Hardison gulped. "I'm sorry, man, that wasn't cool."

Eliot's gaze returned to the ceiling.

"Does it really make a difference with someone to protect?"

Eliot replied softly. "It's harder. I knew that camera was there, I could see the reflection. I held the pain inside so that it wouldn't hurt you, too. It's worse that way. At least if you can scream you can let it out. I was protecting you the only way I could. He knows me, Hardison, that's why he made the team watch it; that was the first night I couldn't do it anymore. I let you down and he knows it."

The younger man was stunned. "I'm sorry." It was all he could think to say.

"Me too."

Eliot tensed when the rest of the team returned. He didn't like being surrounded, especially restrained.

"Can we take off his handcuffs?" Parker asked.

Nate turned to Eliot, who shook his head. "If I have a... if I wake up and think I'm back, I could lash out." She pouted.

"Do you want us to leave you alone to rest, Eliot?" Sophie asked sweetly.

Eliot was quick to answer, "No." She looked confused. "I mean, I'm not tired." She gave him a look that chided, 'You need to rest, young man.' Nate intervened.

"How about we sit with Eliot one at a time? Let's not overcrowd him." Eliot gave him a thankful look and Nate only smiled faintly. Then he was glad that the team was distracted by trying to arrange turns because a painful cramp forced him to focus on not crying out.

"Ooh, me first!" Parker said.

"All right, let's leave them be." Sophie again ushered the other two out as Eliot put on a neutral face.

Eliot watched suspiciously as Parker closed the door most of the way then sat on the edge of the bed. He shifted and winced.

"You okay?" He was surprised at her concern. "Yeah."

She bit her lip, unsure. "Can I see?" She pointed to his chest. He nodded carefully and held his breath as she pulled the blanket down. They hadn't put a shirt on him and only bandaged the deepest cuts so she could see most of it.

It was awful. There was barely any skin clear of bruising. He had cuts and burns and all kinds of things that looked really painful.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Then why aren't you crying?"

Eliot looked, really looked, at her expression. She was confused and... sad.

"I can handle it."

She frowned. "Does crying mean you're weak?"

He watched as she teared up. "Parker, I've cried before. People cry sometimes. It's okay to cry."

She shook her head, hair tossing. "But I'm just sad, I can't cry if you're all broke and you're not crying! How do you get brave? I can jump off buildings and crawl through vents but I don't like it when people hurt other people. I wanna be fearless too."

"Let me tell you something that I learned a long time ago. Look at me, hon'." He held her gaze. "Bein' fearless is just plain suicide. Without fear, people- well, normal people would jump off cliffs. Bein' brave, that's facing your fears and staying strong. You are brave, every bit as much as I am. It's okay to be scared."

The thief sniffled. With shaking fingers she reached out to feel his wounds with a feather-light touch. "Were you scared?"

"Yeah."

"In the video..." She paused to make sure it was okay to ask.

"Go on. It's all right."

"He said that he would finally make you scream, and he did. He laughed at you. Does screaming make you weak? Because I don't think you are."

He almost smiled. "No. If you can't help that someone's hurtin' you, and it hurts real bad, then you can scream all you want. Nothin' to be ashamed of."

"I understand. Um, so, Sophie was telling me that you hurt, and, well... I didn't really think about it before. I thought you were invincible. Like Superman." She looked down. "When I poke you it's just to tease you for being grumpy but I don't mean to make you hurt more. I'm sorry if I hurt you, all those times."

Eliot did smile this time. "It's okay, it never hurt too bad. Just be careful, okay?" She nodded fervently. Then a grin grew as she thought of something. "But it is annoying, right?"

"You're always annoying, Parker."

"So you wouldn't get too mad if I did this?" She lightly poked him in the gut, jumping up and running away, giggling at his growl.

Once she left, his face fell. He kept up a light mood around them but the pain wasn't lessening and his face contorted at a fresh wave of agony. Seriously considering that a lung may have been punctured, he was breathing shallowly as Nate entered.

"You're not going to let us give you pain meds, are you?" The mastermind closed the door and sat in a chair next to him.

"N-no chance in Hell." It took a minute to steady his breath again.

"You don't have to hide it because I'm here, Eliot."

The hitter considered this. "I don't know what to tell them. Parker just found out that I feel pain, Nate, how will they understand when he..."

"He will never touch you again."

"You can't know that. He always... I can't run forever."

"We'll find a way to take him out. We'll protect you, Eliot. Have a little faith."

"You are, despite all your mistakes, a logical man. We need to talk about whe-... if I'm taken again."

"You won't be."

"Come on, you tellin' me a geek, a drunk, and those two petite women are gonna stop an onslaught of professionals? I couldn't do it then, and I sure as Hell can't now."

The mastermind sighed. "Fine."

"If there's a choice between my capture and theirs, it has to be me."

"Eliot, you're not-"

"It's the tactical choice. I'm trained to deal with this, and after one hour any of you would be bawlin' for your mama."

"You haven't healed, Eliot. How long will you last until we can save you?"

"As long as I have to."

"Good. What can you tell me about how Moreau operates?"

"He always has at least one camera on his captives, he's meticulous. He has records of everything to keep track, but lets his men deal with all that. He's got two guards on him at any time and he has the rest contact him at specific intervals. If someone fails to report they get out fast, move somewhere else."

"Did they move you?"

"Twice. They sedated me before both trips so I got nothing. Every room I was held in was virtually the same."

"Is there any other reason they change locations?"

"If someone gets too close."

Nate leaned back, running a hand through his hair.

"What?"

"Twice we thought we had something but any evidence was gone before we could investigate."

"You found nothing?"

"They cleaned up. Hardison was upset because you can't delete something from the Internet but these guys did it, erased the evidence."

"So he's got hackers, probably using the cops under his belt."

Nate nodded. "I can work with that."

"He won't slip up again, Nate. He's learning from our actions and adjusting. If you pull something, it's gotta be new."

"Got it." The mastermind paused. "When we got close, did he take it out on you?"

Eliot tilted his head. "None of this is your fault, Nate."

"It's not yours, Eliot."

"I shouldn'a let 'em get the drop on me. Wasn't careful enough."

"Knowing you, I highly doubt that. How were you taken?"

A slight tremor ran through him. "I was asleep. Someone dragged me up and got me in a chokehold but I fought 'im off. Three more came in and I was able to knock 'em out, but I didn't see the last one until he tasered me."

Nate huffed. "Not careful enough? You were sleeping. You should feel safe in your own home."

"It's not about me, Nate. They could've taken any of you, because I missed something. A breath, a rustle. Something that small could have costed your lives. That's unacceptable."

"It's your job to protect us and you did that. No one else could or would have given so much. You haven't failed."

He saw the sincerity in the older man's eyes.

"Why don't you want us to know about it? Why do you hide your pain?"

"To protect you."

"How does that protect us?"

"It hurts you to see me like this."

"Why?"

Eliot paused.

"Because we care about you. Your own logic proves it. Even if you told him everything, we'd get through it together."

He didn't know how to respond. God, why did the man have to be so sentimental? He could be cold to everyone else but have a heart-to-heart with Eliot Spencer? It threw the hitter off, but his words did relieve some of his guilt.

"So, I'm guessing that if you get caught, you don't want us to try to save you?"

"You could get them killed, Nate."

"They'd kill us both for trying to stop them."

Eliot understood why Nate had explained it to him. He knew that they'd never abandon him. Although they could get hurt, at least he'd know he wasn't alone.

Sophie replaced Nate, pulling the chair closer to the bed. She saw Eliot's chest from Parker's visit and sighed. "Is it bad?"

"This? It's a paper cut compared to the Sound of Music starring Sophie Devereaux." He grinned at her fake glare.

"There's that southern charm we've all missed."

"By the way, I never got to compliment your southern bell."

"Oh, that was ages ago!" She grinned. "You were so mysterious, with your whole I'm-a-hitter-so-you-better-not-ask-me-what-I've-done routine."

"Watch it, woman, you don't know what I'm capable of." He said, mocking himself.

She laughed, her genuine laugh that no mark would ever have the pleasure of hearing.

"Oh, it's so good to have you back, Eliot." Her smile faded. She felt like such an idiot, acting like he'd just returned from a month-long luxury vacation. He didn't like seeing that bright grin falter.

"You know what, I'm such a sod, I should leave. You have to rest."

"You don't have to go, Soph, I ain't gonna sleep."

"And why on Earth not?"

He looked to the foot of the bed. "'M not tired."

"Well, if you're going to lie to me, at least try to be convincing. It's so obvious that I'm embarrassed for you."

"I'm not a mark."

"Then stop acting like one." He glared at her but she refused to back down. "Why are you afraid to fall asleep, Eliot?" She asked softly.

He turned his head to face the ceiling, staring at the white plaster.

"I haven't seen you close your eyes for any longer than a tick. Why won't you close your eyes?"

Eliot knew she wouldn't let it go until he answered. "I wasn't allowed to sleep."

"What? But you were gone a month, Eliot, you must have-"

"If I closed my eyes for more than a few seconds some machine I hung from electrified me for an hour. If I passed out during a 'session' he'd let me stay unconscious to watch as I remembered where I was, my realization. He stopped letting me stay unconscious once I learned to expect nothing else."

Sophie was shocked. "How many times were you electrified?"

"You'd be surprised how tired you get with no food and constant torture." He said bitterly.

"How did your heart take it?"

"It stopped once. He just turned the setting higher to revive me."

She covered her mouth daintily. "You died?" A tear leaked.

"Hey, I'm sorry. You asked and I knew you were too stubborn to accept not knowing it all."

She shook her head. "I was inconsiderate, I'm so sorry."

Eliot caught her glance and held it. "If you want to know anything, I'll tell you. What do you want to know?"

"I... I didn't want to point it out, but I see you when you think no one's looking. How much pain are you in?"

He inhaled deeply. "A lot."

"Is there any way we can help?"

"Jus' don't cry for me. I can deal with it."

"You don't have to hide your pain. Would you stop playing the tough guy?" Instantly realizing her mistake, she slapped her hand over her mouth.

Eliot flinched. Those were the same words that he used. He opened his eyes quickly out of habit, staring at the ceiling. His back stung from the memory of it being torn open.

"Bloody hell, I'm so sorry!" Her accent thickened in her distress. "I didn't mean to, I just-"

"It's fine, Soph'." He turned back to her. "But I'm not being proud, 'playing the tough guy'. I know my limits but none of you do. If you don't have faith in my strength, you don't trust my abilities, and then I can't protect you."

"We trust you Eliot. Do you trust us?"

He frowned. "I..."

"You don't trust us? I can't believe it! How long have we been a team? Sure, you've saved our lives constantly, but we've saved yours too! I thought that by now you would care enough about us to call it trust, but oh no, the world's greatest hitter could never admit that he finally-"

"I lost it!" Eliot yelled, overwhelmed by her incessant rambling. "For the first week I was locked in a pitch black room, sensory deprivation hood strapped on, suffocating me. I was bound so tight I could hardly breathe anyway. You wanna know what it's like to have no food, water, sleep, warmth, or senses for someone like me? It's a living hell! They drugged me the whole time and all I had was my hallucinations. Guess what they were? You wanna know what I was sure really happened, what picture's burned into my mind?"

Sophie shook her head meekly.

"How could I trust you when all I knew was pain at your hands? For the real world it was a week. I thought it was years, decades. I remember every day, every torment. Tortures Moreau wouldn't dare attempt. You liked to set me on edge with your neurolinguistic programming, making me think I might finally be safe, then you tore it all away. Nate would force me into Russian roulette, with the gun pointed at any random joint. Sometimes he got to all of them before growing bored. He does love his guns and mind games. Hardison used his technology to do something new every day, by electrifying me or developing an injection that made my cells implode, or using his machines to boil the blood in my veins. Parker, well, she was creative. She especially favored finding ways to bend and break my body to make it 'pretty'. Sometimes y'all were torturing me, others I was forced to torture you. I can't forget your screams, any of you. The begging, the sobbing, the straining to escape no matter how much more damage you did or punishment you received for it all. I never thought they were lies. I believed it was all true, even after Moreau had to - somehow - torture me back to sanity. When I woke here, I thought you were back to hurt me again, this time all at once. I thought I was gone, that he'd finally tortured me past the breaking point. I knew it couldn't be, though, when Parker was so gentle. I'd never imagine something so unbelievable. So yeah, I did trust you, again and again as you laughed in my face for believing you ever cared, and after all that time I still never talked. I'm still protecting you and I'll go straight back to my own little hellhole to protect you. I trust you. But sometimes, just in a flash, I see a look or a movement, or hear a tone of voice, that reminds me of it all, and I'm lost again for a second. I trust you, Sophie, and I trust them, but I can't trust myself."

Sophie was sobbing.

Eliot's tone softened. "Y'all ask me 'bout what I've done. I say I'll tell ya if you ask, so please, don't. 'Til now, you've never even dared to ask what's been done to me." He paused. "Did I answer your questions?"

Nate had returned when the grifter had left upset. Eliot just stared at the ceiling. The mastermind watched him quizzically.

"Why are you being so open, telling each of us about it? You'd usually just blow us off."

"Y'all are too damn stubborn. Guess I'm tired of playing the tough guy."

"Don't dismiss this, Eliot."

The hitter turned to him. "First not talking hurt you, now talking hurts you more? I don't know how to protect them anymore. I'm trying to listen and answer your questions..."

"But it's not in your nature to talk about this. It must be very confusing."

"I can adapt to any circumstance. I had to adapt to my captivity to survive. But I can't protect you if whatever I do hurts you more!"

"This is a complicated thing; it won't resolve itself in time. We've never helped someone through trauma and you've never had to go through it with a family to protect. We'll get through it, but only if we stick together."

Eliot scoffed. "When did you get into giving pep talks?"

"When everyone started needing them."

Eventually, they decided to leave him alone, no exceptions. He needed sleep desperately but watched in dread as they left. Sophie closed the door after turning off the light. Eliot lay still, terrified. He couldn't see anything. If anyone tried to hurt him he'd be completely defenseless. Just like when he was deprived of his senses.

This was going to be a long night.

**A/N: Aw, poor babe! I know, seems a bit too touchy-feely to be the world's most feared hitter, but I think after what I put him through, he's feeling a little fed up. Hope it wasn't too angsty (just kidding) and thanks for reading! Please review, lovely readers! I want to know if I should look into continuing this, or if it's fine as a standalone ficlet type of story.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here's chapter 2, as requested. Thanks go out to those that reviewed, favorited and followed this, I just hope I can keep up! There's a little comfort in here, but of course following some internal considerations of Nate. He does so love to think. Well, please enjoy!**

Nate stood with his back to Eliot's door, tilting his head to listen in; the room was silent so instead he tilted it back. As the leader of the team he found it extremely distressing to have no idea what to do. For all his clever tricks and intricate plans, he couldn't fix a broken man. And that was his main concern: was Eliot broken?

The old Eliot would have never so much as hesitated in front of them, but now he was a nervous wreck: all flinches, winces and stutters. If even Parker noticed that he seemed scared and unsure, the signs must have been beyond obvious to the grifter. Sophie had pushed him, sure he needed to talk, and he'd only lashed out. Nate considered that the hitter may have lost his resolve and possibly would never be their Eliot again.

On the other hand, there was no one more resilient or strong in his line of work or anywhere else; the fact that he was still alive proved that. The southern man looked young and this appearance was supported by his charming demeanor toward most people. Most hitters, though, either don't live past their late twenties or die too quickly for it to matter. Eliot was an old man in this sense. His eyes showed years of hardship, a statement blared by his scars and habits. Nate scolded himself for his lack of faith; the hitter would get through this and use it to his advantage. He'd learn from his mistakes and be more cautious from now on, despite how Hardison mocked him for his paranoia. Once Eliot had growled in response, "When you've done the things I've done, there's no such thing as paranoia." Well, if nothing else, the hitter would be very careful now.

He walked into the main room to see Parker and Hardison lying on the couch. The hacker was lying behind the thief who had her arms tucked beneath her head as she breathed deeply, almost inaudibly. They must have been asleep to go more than a few seconds without moving or bickering. Nathan was jealous of their innocence, their trust and hope that allowed a sound night's rest. He glanced around, seeing Sophie was in the kitchen area pouring a mug of coffee. At least he wasn't the only one unable to sleep.

She handed him a filled mug and they drank the dark liquid before she spoke up. "What are we going to do?"

The mastermind set down his drink with a sigh. "I don't have any experience with this, I've only ever dealt with fraud and stolen goods. When Eliot warned us we were out of our league, I thought he was putting on a show. We've taken down huge marks before so I thought we could handle it. I didn't listen to him and now..."

The grifter held his forearm gently. "This is not your fault. We should have listened to Eliot but we've done all we can. Now it's up to him."

"You're the best at what you do, Sophie. You can read him, you do it on days when he's not too exhausted to keep up the act. I need to know, is he..." Nate spluttered for a moment, unable to say it out loud.

"Broken? Definitely not." She rolled her eyes at Nate's confused look (which he tried to mask with an expression of fake understanding). "This is Eliot Spencer we're talking about. He's spent years on end fighting wars, breaking the law, and fighting professionals. I'm sure he's gotten familiar with the standards of foreign crime lords' dungeons and prisons. He can easily handle extreme pressure. He's in bad form but coping as well as an emotionally repressed fighter could after that hell. If he'd been broken, he'd either be insane, unstoppable or dead."

Nate nodded in concurrence, slightly less worried now. "Fair enough, but why are you so upset? You left his room in tears."

She paused to find the words. "He'll heal physically and he's remarkably still with us, but Moreau... he did the most awful things... I've seen this game before. Not as vicious as enforcing it with torture so brutal, but it's a classic move. He was manipulating Eliot using everything he had against him to train him to be his own personal toy. Keep in mind that Moreau is probably the only man he fears. He knows Eliot's life, his habits, his mind; he used everything against him. Eliot is not weak, but he has just spent weeks at the hands of his most powerful, resourceful, creative enemy. I'd be surprised if he could ever heal completely."

Nate ran a hand down his face. "I know, I know. But what does he need?"

"He needs trust."

"We trust him with our lives every day."

Sophie tilted her head. "We're treating him like a victim. Eliot is our hitter, our protector. He knows that if we don't trust him to protect us, if we don't respect him to know what he can do, we're easy targets. He can't do his job if we pity him. Do you honestly think that being handcuffed makes him feel trusted? That our forcing him to confess and share makes him feel stronger? Moreau may have beaten him down, but we aren't helping him up."

"He needs the cuffs so he doesn't lose control."

"You know better than that Nathan. He was hanging from his wrists for who knows how long. That and feeling restrained just adds to his panic. You saw him when he woke up, his first instinct wasn't to hurt us, but to defend himself. He's only still cuffed because he thinks we fear him. He doesn't think he has our trust and he doesn't believe he'd deserve it."

"And the way he's been so open…"

"He knows it's worse to not know. He's showing that he's willing to sacrifice his pride to lighten our load. He endured torture to save us and he thinks he still has to."

"So we're only adding to his pain."

"We have to show Eliot that we respect him but he can't always put us first."

"When he wakes up, then?"

"I don't think he'll be able to sleep until we do."

"Then let's go."

The two headed to the guest room. With a quick glance toward Sophie, Nate knocked lightly.

Pause. "Yeah?" His rasping voice was soft.

The mastermind slowly opened the door. Eliot lay propped up against the headboard, shifting absently trying to relieve his shoulders. His face pinched from the shifting of his ribs but he remained focused on them.

"Whaddya want?"

Nate blanked so Sophie stepped in. "We want to apologize for how we've treated you. You've been so good to us and we, well we just slapped on some gauze, handcuffed you and then made you talk to make us feel better when it wasn't for your sake, but our own selfishness."

Eliot frowned. "You're doin' the best you can."

"That's the point, Eliot, we're not. Are you telling me you'd rather stay locked up?" Nate's words seemed to annoy the hitter.

"I gotta stay cuffed, Nate, ya know that. A'int gonna put y'all in danger for pride."

Nate raised his eyebrows. "Right, because you're such a threat to us in your state. Tell me, what was your first instinct when you woke up?"

The hitter looked to Sophie, who only nodded sadly. "You read me?"

"Can you blame me? You're an open book."

"Yeah, well it a'int my fault." Eliot mumbled.

"None of it is. You don't have to punish yourself. You saved us, now let us save you. Can I unlock the cuffs?"

He rolled his eyes, "Fine."

Nate pulled out the key and gently unlocked the bracelets. First his right arm, then his left was released. He groaned as his arms left the position they'd been in for too long. Moving them very slowly, he brought them to his sides. It felt like they were being torn off but he had to move them sometime. A hitter wasn't a hitter without them.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Eliot's strained voice jogged Sophie.

"I'll go get you some water. Are you hungry?"

"Look like I been livin' in a five-star hotel, woman?" He growled mockingly. Her subsequent grin made his lips quirk. When she left, he turned to the team's leader. "How're the others?"

"Sleeping. They trust you to take your time and heal. They just want it to be like it was."

"You think it'll ever be the same?"

"I think things have changed, but they always do. We're a group of the most wanted thieves in the world, and at least one of us is insane. Nothing will ever be normal. That said, I'm sure it'll eventually level out to what we can call normal. At least, normal for us."

Eliot accepted the answer, taking note that Nate believed he could get past this. Parker and Hardison seemed to agree. Sophie, well, if she thought he was beyond help, she'd be coddling him to no end. They trusted him without the cuffs and swore to protect _him_.

Maybe having a family wasn't too bad after all.

**A/N: Aww, there's that charming and sentimental (albeit rarely) dork we all know and love. I think we're moving towards more fluff, but don't worry, our boy's not done fighting yet ;) Review if you so wish, it sure does make my day!**


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